Attachment Issues
by kawaii-yumi-chan
Summary: This is a very light AU but set after the Avengers Movie. Its my interpertation of their relationship. its told from Natasha's POV. I'm very bad at summarries but it involves Natasha thinking about her relationship or lack of one with Clint. it includes a very very light citrus and mild language.


A/N: somehow I just got into the Avengers and im now obsessed with it. I really really really like Natasha and clint as a pairing and I feel as if there is something there that's very poignant and misunderstood. So I wrote this little mini-oneshot about them in Natasha's POV. I tried to stay as IC as possible but some parts may be OOC. Its rated M for very very very mild citrus and like three curse words lol.

A/N: I DO NOT own the Avengers of Clint and Natasha just borrowing them. they belong to Marvel and Stan Lee.

* * *

Don't get attached, I told him but here I was sneaking into his bedroom yet again. It's become a troublesome habit seeking him out and crawling into bed with him. He didn't seem to mind, he scooted left and then pulled me into his arms and promptly fell back to sleep.

What had I gotten myself into? Everything was much harder now, the lines of mere friendship and that of lovers was blurred beyond recognition. What I really need to do is get my butt out of this bed and go back to my own hotel suite. At least then I could concentrate and formulate a plan of action.

"Whats the point of sneaking in here if you aren't going to sleep?" his eyes were still closed and he sounded beat, rightfully so. They had been here for the past few days trying to gather some Intel. She did most of the face work, but he was always waiting on the rafters his eyes peeled on her every move.

"I can't sleep." I mutter which was sort of the truth. I have too many things on my mind to fall asleep, unlike him he was out at the drop of the hat. "Not everyone is a narcoleptic." I chided him softly.

He laughed the sound rumbling in my ear that was pressed against his chest. "Being awesome is tiring." He replied emphasizing it with a yawn, "if you don't want to sleep do you wanna do it?"

Do it, have sex, fuck… yeah I would but it felt as if it was forced. He was tired and I know I should say no and roll away from him but I still hold tight to the arm that is wrapped around my waist. Just being next to him was enough to lull me into dreamland, he didn't really even have to be touching me. His warmth seemed to just reach out and envelop me no matter how far apart we were.

"That's a yes right?" he didn't sound sure, he never initiated sex. I suppose it's because he doesn't want to seem as if he is forcing me to do something I don't want. From the beginning I laid out the ground rules, this thing we had between us was nothing. I was just going to use him to maybe try to lose myself for a little while.

I had initially justified it as an escape from the pressure and a way to relieve the stress of being the 'Black Widow'. Some way along the line though that excuse became irrelevant. Before I knew it he was on top of me pulling down my panties and spreading my legs. He settled between them his fingers fumbling now to remove his own pants.

I reach down between us and help him out, pulling his cock out between the folds of his boxers. Usually he would go down on me get me as wet as possible before he took me but I stopped his movement. "Just fuck me ok?" his dark eyes were questioning for a moment but then he nods and takes over.

It's a little painful at first, the first skin on skin contact but then it feels better and he slides in easier and faster. I close my eyes because I don't want to look in his, I don't want him to know what I am really feeling at this very moment. Honestly I just don't want to see that emotion in his eyes. He doesn't consider this fucking, he's making love to me. I know he cares about me, I know he loves me but I can't let him know that I feel the same way.

His lips are on my neck now, sucking gently at my skin trailing down to my now uncovered breasts. He kisses each on lightly, lovingly before sucking my right nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, better than amazing. I should be concentrating on that, on trying to come but my mind is on him.

He must be angry with me, he had a right to be I guess. He never really let on to it though he was more comfortable just letting it go. He tried hard, he really did to keep his anger at me at bay. One day he was just gonna let it explode and the shit would hit the fan. But it didn't seem like that would be tonight. He wouldn't say anything about it.

"Nat…" he groaned against my ear bringing me back to the present, to what we were doing now. When had he begun to go so hard? His movements were quick and rough and on its own my body responded in turn my hips rising to meet every one of his thrusts.

What I needed to do was forget about everything and concentrate on him, and now and the whole reason I was here in the first place. I can feel it coming the onslaught of pleasure that would leave me writhing beneath him in a satisfied heap.

"Nat…" he says again this time his voice was strained. How long had they been at it? He was tethering on the edge waiting for me to come first. I never understood why it was so important to him that I came. Here I was using him, ignoring his feelings for me and yet he never let himself go without me reaching my pinnacle first.

He brought his hand between us and found my clit, he used his thumb to press just so knowing that it would take me over. I moan his name and bury my head against his wet skin blocking out everything but the immense ripples of pleasure that consumed my body.

Only then did he let go too, coming inside me with a long almost imperceptible groan. He whispers something into my hair that I can't grasp, probably my name. I don't try to understand it I just let my body float. From somewhere through the daze I could still feel his hips moving, I register every detail of how this, how we feel together. It feels incredible lying there wrapped in his arms letting the time just drift by us like it was nothing.

I catch my breath first, but don't open my eyes I laid there just listening to the ragged sounds of his breathing and wonder why I distance myself from him so much. Why can't I just come out and say what I feel? He began to move on me and I open my eyes.

His face was just mere inches from mine, his eyes searched my features taking in every detail. He wanted to kiss me then, I know but I couldn't, no I wouldn't let him. I turn my head to the side and look off towards the large window where slivers of moonlight filtered in.

"Damnit Nat." he cursed and for a brief moment our eyes meet.

I don't know what I see there but it's painful, its dark it's consuming. I turn away from him then and try to hold my sigh to myself, I feel like the epitome of evil right then, like I had just killed a bunch of puppies for the pure joy of it. I think maybe he'll say something, accuse me of being heartless of playing him but all I hear is just silence.

I wish he would tell me to go to hell or to stop coming to his bed whenever I felt like it. He never does though he always just pulls me close and wishes me a good night. In a way he was a strong man, dangerous and precise when it came to work to helping people in need. But he was like putty in my hands, I know his better judgment goes out the window when it comes to me.

He got up and although we had just had sex he seemed detached, he ran a hand through his hair and then walked off to the bathroom. I roll to my onto my side facing away from him and silently berate myself. I hate that he cares for me, more than just as friends or comrades.

I warned him from the beginning that this was nothing to me, it was just sex just a way for me to differentiate Natasha from the black widow. But I lied to myself and to him, you can't just be friends who occasionally fucked each other. It never works like that.

He didn't understand it at all and I guess most of it was my fault. I could tell him what is really inside my head my selfish reasoning for always turning my head when he tried to kiss me. But what difference would it make, seriously?

The door to the bathroom opened and for a moment I could sense his hesitation, maybe he was wondering if I was a lost cause, if maybe he should run as far away as possible right now while I lay sleeping in his bed. Had he wasted so much time with a woman incapable of love? But the room went dark and I felt the dip on the other side of the mattress as he climbed in.

I don't dare turn around or let him know that I am awake, "I'm sorry I almost blew you up." He didn't reach for me, but his voice did. I wanted to reach back, but instead I lay there as still as I could muster.

He wasn't apologizing for almost killing me, he was apologizing for letting his feelings get in the way of doing his job accurately. That is the exact reason I didn't get involved with anyone, feelings always got in the way. Jealousy, anger, love all these had no place in my, in our line of work. I was a secret agent for god's sake, lies were basically my whole job description.

Yes, I kissed him. I did so because I thought his position had been discovered and so I did what I do best. I used my feminine charm and distracted him, little did I know how harshly Clint would take it. "It won't happen again." He said after long moments of silence.

He says that now but if the situation came up again it probably would, that's probably what I like most about him. He's very honest more so than I could ever be and he somehow kept hold of at least a part of his boyish innocence. "Look it's over, I'm not dead alright? It's nothing." I have a feeling he would sit there the entire night apologizing if he had to. Right now I just want to close my eyes and forget about today.

"ok." He answered reluctantly as he slid down beneath the covers. I don't expect him to want me close but he pulls me closer and wraps his powerful arms around me. What is wrong with me? Why do I torture him like this? Why do I torture myself like this?

I don't ever apologize to him, I never give excuses for my actions I just do it and not care who it affects as long as the job gets done. The only person I seem to hurt is him though and that makes me feel like the lowest of low. Here was a great guy basically willing to give me anything, do anything for me and I couldn't bring myself to let him inside this stupid little shell I have built up around me.

But how do you tell someone that you are so conflicted to the point that you don't know who you are anymore? I am Natasha Romanoff, a Russian woman who was forced to witness the death of all her loved ones, but I'm also the black widow a super spy who was this tough no nonsense woman who always came out on top.

"Night Nat." he whispers next to my ear.

"Night Clint." I whisper back to him. I know he would have like something more, an explanation anything to let him know that he was special to me. But I can't do that something prevents me from saying any words of endearments.

I close my eyes and try to drift off but I keep thinking about him. Even though I am laying here safe in his arms so close to him, it feels as if we are oceans apart. I know soon he is going to want an answer, he's going to want some sort of acknowledgment, but I dread that day.

I don't want him to be taken away from me, but if I let the world know that this was it this was my great love I know the outcome. He would be snatched away just like everyone else, my parents, my brothers and sisters and then Clint. I pray every night to whoever is listening that that never happens. He is the only really good thing in my life and I don't want to ruin it.

I can keep going for a little longer, ignoring what probably was so obvious to everyone. If I never give voice to those thoughts there would be no concrete proof. There would be no grounds for anyone to use it against me. That's what I tell myself, but it's just me being selfish. We had a whole team of bad asses who could handle whatever threat came along, but I still hold on to that sliver of reasoning.

I tell myself I owe him for saving my life, but how many times have I already repaid that debt? I've lost count at how many times I've saved his ass from aliens, spies, himself. It's an old tired excuse for staying close to him, but I have to hold onto something.

I shift in his arms and look up at his sleeping face. He looked peaceful as if there was nothing wrong in the world, as if being here with me was the only thing on his mind. Which it probably was. He wasn't as good as I was at hiding his emotions. I want to kiss him, to feel his lips against mine. To experience a real kiss with someone I have feelings for. But I resist that insane urge and close my eyes again.

I can't tell him that I want to kiss him, I can't tell him why I don't though. Lying is part of my trade, every mission I am a new persona and with that come different goals and marks. It's so easy for me to lose myself in that new me to take on the character. In character I might kiss someone or flirt with someone but that doesn't mean anything to me. Its part of my job, the only thing I don't give up is my body. He is the only one that I sleep with, he is the only one I trust with myself.

I know he won't take advantage of me, he won't domineer or try to control me because of it. He lets me be me and he never questions me about what I want to do or why. I know he wants to but he never does. It might not be the same as saying I love you or I can't stop thinking about you, but I hope that he knows it. I hope he doesn't give up on me.

I want to sleep now, I feel like I'm drifting away down a long river. I pray silently that we will always be together, before giving into that feeling and falling asleep.

* * *

so there it is, what do you think?


End file.
